


Five Times Kris Hugs Cale and One Time He Doesn't

by stickmarionette



Category: American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician), Kris Allen Band
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickmarionette/pseuds/stickmarionette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Do you always do that to people you've just met?"</i>  Kris has no boundaries and Cale has very little resistance.  That's how it starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Kris Hugs Cale and One Time He Doesn't

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ontd_ai charity drive for Haiti. Beta read by realpestilence.

one. first time

The first time Kris hugs him, they've only known each other for five minutes. Cale freezes, all tense and nervous, but Kris just squeezes him harder until he gives in, sighing a little and pushing his face into Cale's chest when Cale manages to pat his back awkwardly.

"Do you always do that to people you've just met?"

He would be more tactful, but that's harder than it sounds when he can feel another guy's sharp hipbones digging into his skin, and the tremors when he laughs with his whole body, head thrown back so he's looking at Cale through his lashes.

The tone of his voice would be a tease if he sounded awake enough to make the effort. "Only if I like them."

Cale really, really doesn't want to know what his face looks like right now. If John's unconvincing attempts at not laughing in his general direction are any indication, he's never going to hear the end of it.

Somehow, he's okay with that.

two. friends

Kris is, as it turns out, a very physical person. He just acts like that all the time - so it's not as if Cale's special or anything – and everybody lets him because he's like human morphine. Or at least that's what John says, and he should know, since he's been rooming with Kris for a while.

For a while, they see each other a lot at campus ministry events. It's just one of those things – their friends are friends, and they've got similar interests.

Kris loves music like he loves God, and the first time he sees Cale play guitar, singing quietly because he's insecure about his voice, the look in his eyes makes Cale feel like an actual rock star.

Then he's in attendance when Kris sings at one of their special services, face rapt as this unbelievable voice comes out of his small frame, soaring through the words about faith and devotion. Then he doesn't know how to feel, even though Kris keeps telling him what a great musician he is, how much he likes his voice, and always seems to mean it.

And _then_ they somehow spend an entire evening talking about the Beatles over a case of beer, and it's at this point that Cale feels like he's stumbled upon something awesome, before even getting into their first stereotypical college jam session.

After that, John starts laughing at him whenever he brings Kris up in conversation and Seth takes to giving him strange looks.

Cale just shrugs. "Dude, the moment he said _McCartney_ he was my new best friend."

"Ouch. That's just harsh," Seth says, shaking his head and mock-shoving at Cale's shoulder.

"Shut up, you're the one who said Ringo. That's never the right answer."

* * *

Kris is the kind of musically talented that means he's completely nonchalant about it. It's actually pretty annoying. Cale has some of that himself, but he's not as oblivious about it.

They're in Cale's dorm room because even John can only take so much of the two of them 'being tortured artists' before it gets to him, and Cale doesn't have a room mate. Kris is sprawled out on his bed with a guitar in his lap, lazily plucking at the strings while Cale sits opposite him in his uncomfortable study chair. Somehow, that doesn't seem right.

"You know, I think Seth is jealous."

"What, because you're cheating on him with me?"

Cale chokes on his drink, which is always bad around Kris because he enjoys thumping Cale's back like he's trying to kill him under the guise of being helpful. This time, though, he just smirks, probably because he can't be bothered getting up to do it.

"You know what I mean - musically."

He absolutely does. Seth's been his musical soulmate since freshman year, but he and Kris click together just as well without even trying. It would be kind of weird if he thought about it too hard, which is why he gave up doing that early on.

* * *

For a guy who can sit around for most of a day without saying a word when he feels like it, Kris spends a lot of time on the phone. Turns out he has a girlfriend from high school but they're kind of, sort of broken up because he's at college and she isn't, and that's who he keeps talking to.

The last time Cale asked about it, Kris promised to show him a picture. It's been a couple of weeks since then, and Cale's already written it off as Kris being forgetful as usual when he gets a glossy photo shoved in his face as a greeting.

"See? That's her, Katy."

She's very pretty with her shiny hair and bright eyes, and the two of them look ridiculously cute together - even though Kris is rocking the most hilarious semi-bowl cut ever - like one of those couples you'd see on Hallmark cards. The way Kris always talks about it, he might not be with her anymore, but he'd like to be.

"Why did you guys break up? Seems kind of senseless to me."

Kris shrugs. "It's only because everything's uncertain, you know. We're not sure where we're going to be in a year's time. It's just…on hold right now."

There's a _Friends_ joke in there somewhere. Cale refrains from making it only because he's trying to be a good friend and this is a serious conversation.

"You're not worried she's going to find someone new?"

"She promised I'd be the first to hear about it," Kris says with a grin. He seems to mean it, too.

Sometimes, the guy's just so intensely _weird_.

* * *

" – oh good, you're here. Can I hide out with you?"

The Kris who peeks his head into Cale's room is flushed all the way from the top of his forehead to the collar of his t-shirt, whether from alcohol or embarrassment, Cale can't quite tell.

Cale stands up, gesturing wide enough to encompass his tiny dorm room. "Sure, as long as you tell me what you're hiding from, mi casa su casa."

One moment Kris is closing the door behind him, beaming like Cale had just offered him a bag of Twizzlers, then he's right up in Cale's face, winding his arms around his middle, palms flat against his back.

"Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver."

This always happens when Cale's not expecting the hug - he stands there just taking it until his brain catches up. By now, the solidity of Kris's shoulders under his hands, the way he exhales and leans into any contact is reassuringly familiar.

"Wow, that bad? Let me guess: that friend of John's, what was her name? Denise?"

"Yeah, her." Kris ducks his head. "She's actually super nice, just…a bit much when she's drunk, you know?"

Cale rolls his eyes so loudly they can probably hear it in space. "Translation: she doesn't know when to stop hitting on you, and you can't tell until there are serious lines being crossed, or until John drags you off somewhere."

"That's about right," Kris says with a nervous giggle, and Cale's just thinking how docile he is for this stage of tipsy when Kris's fingers start sneaking their way under his shirt.

Cale's way past the point where he would have jumped a foot in the air at that. (Sometimes, it feels like he was never at that point.) He flinches instinctively - but only because Kris's hands are cold - and just goes with it. There's a joke he should be making here so they can both laugh off the excessive physical contact for what it is - Kris is just playing, he's naturally affectionate and maybe a little touch-starved -

"Stay still," Kris murmurs, husky-low, like he means it, and Cale's train of thought screeches to a grinding halt.

His laugh comes out a little shaky. "Your hands are cold."

"That's why they're under your shirt," Kris says, pointedly moving them even further up, all the while giving Cale the crooked smile he's learned to recognise as asking for permission and assuming forgiveness at the same time. "It's called body heat."

The question in Kris's eyes now isn't completely new, though Cale's never seen it this clearly before. The realization that he's not sure about the answer feels like the first moment of freefall. All he can do at this point in time is smile back and parry like this is just a normal conversation, like he's not restless under the skin, caught between the urge to step away and wanting to do nothing of the kind.

"Liar. You just want to get into my pants."

"Only a little bit," Kris says, somehow sheepish and sly at the same time, and oddly serious behind it all.

Cale's not sure how his hands ended up on Kris's hips, just where the frayed waistline of his jeans meets skin. Since they're there, though, he can't quite help stroking his thumbs over the denim covering Kris's hipbones, and then the smooth, warm skin above that. Kris leans into the touch, lips turning up at the sides, until Cale's feeling the curve of that smile against his Adam's apple and shivering just a little when Kris turns it into a lingering kiss, the slightest press of his lips and a swipe of the tongue.

"I - "

"It's okay, don't freak," Kris says, the words breathed out against Cale's jaw low and sweet, and then he's licking Cale's mouth open, and freaking out suddenly isn't a possibility any more.

* * *

Cale wakes up first the next morning, so Kris doesn't get to watch him panic, complete with stupid arm movements and the moment in which he wishes futilely for a book on How to Behave When You've Just Slept With A Male Friend (Mostly By Accident) so he could speed-read it. Luckily, that phase only lasts until he ventures a glance at Kris, who's somehow rolled himself up in most of the blankets and is about to fall off the edge of the bed. Then he has to stifle a laugh because waking the other person up by laughing at them is never polite, and whatever else he is right now, Cale is determined to continue his track record of being a gentleman. Not that he's got a lot of experience with random hook-ups. Not that this is a random –

Fine, he's a little turned around by all this. Nothing to do with how he makes his peace with God, because that was sorted years and years ago -

(He had an older friend in high school, a sprinter named Ben who secretly had an amazing voice. Cale had never really thought about it until Ben came out, just as he was going away for college, and sure, it gave him pause, but he figured that God wouldn't have made someone as awesome as Ben the way he was unless there was nothing wrong with it.)

\- He's just surprised. This is so not how he expected college to go.

Still, the freaking out has to stop. His reputation for coolness in any situation is becoming less true by the second, and that's just not right. One more moment of burying his face in his hands and laughing – very quietly – then he's ready to get up and face the music. Or as ready as he'll ever be.

Kris doesn't stir until Cale's dressed, showered and feeling almost like himself again, and then it's only because Cale has to move him before he falls off the bed.

"Morning!" Cale says brightly, opening the curtains with a flourish.

He gets the feeling that Kris would be glaring if he weren't busy rubbing his eyes blearily against the incoming sunlight. "Urgh, why are you so cheerful?"

Unfortunately, most of the things that spring to mind as responses straightaway are desperately inappropriate. Or maybe very appropriate, Cale's not sure which. He's paused too long, though, since Kris is now awake enough to worry.

"Hey, hey, I'm not complaining. Don't get weird. Is this going to be weird now?"

Cale leans down far enough to brush his mouth against the frown lines on Kris's forehead. That's an easy one. He's always known the answer, really.

"Nah. No way."

* * *

Kris and Katy get back together a few months later. There's one potential weird moment when Katy stretches up to whisper in his ear at a party about a week after they first meet, tipsy and giggling, and it turns out Kris does actually tell her everything, but it's over in fifteen seconds flat.

Whatever else they do - did - they're friends first and foremost. It's not a big deal if they don't make it into a one.

three. morocco

Hearing about Morocco from Mrs Allen is like torture. She's trying so hard to be strong, make it sound less horrible, but there's really no gentle way to tell a group of Kris's closest friends that he's dying on a dirt floor somewhere far away because his stupid generosity gets him into bad situations, like being in a place with crappy medical services while hepatitis kills him slowly.

The worst part is knowing that none of them can do a thing except wait and pray. When Mrs Allen has to leave the room because she can't keep up the brave face for one moment longer and Katy flings herself at him, shaky and shell-shocked, Cale puts his unsteady arms around her and prays harder than he ever has.

* * *

The next few weeks are really awful. The Allens are quiet and sad-eyed, and everyone else seems to have trouble looking at them without getting the same way. Katy says to him in her barely-there voice that she's started dreading phone calls, _"in case, you know, it's…I just can't."_ Cale's at that point himself when Mrs Allen calls. He doesn't even hear her, the first few times she says it, his heart's pounding so loudly. Then it registers and it takes him three tries to form words.

They get Kris back, and that's all that matters, even if Cale has to work hard to shake off the fear of what could have been at the sight of him, yellow and scary thin and sunken-eyed in his hospital bed, but still trying to muster up a smile and a wave when he sees Cale standing in the doorway.

"So that trip was a bad idea."

His voice is cheerful, but paper-thin. It doesn't help the over-all impression that he's barely there, enhanced by how much empty space there is on the bed. Suddenly, Cale has to touch him, just – he needs to make sure.

Kris smiles and hugs back as much as he can with the IV in the way when Cale puts his arms around him carefully, stroking at the warm skin over Kris's shoulder blades through his hospital gown. It's a bit surreal, actually, because he thought he'd never get to have this again. He can't help letting his fingers curl in a little at that, just enough to change the feather-light touches to a grip until he's clinging on, just for a moment.

When he pulls back, Kris's brows are furrowed and he's giving Cale the full 'you're worrying me' look.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I was - we - " Cale shakes his head. "I'm going to be a complete sap, and you can make fun of me for the rest of my life, I don't even care right now. You know how much it sucked that we couldn't do anything but pray? I think God must have been sick of me by the end, I asked Him to make you come home alive so often."

Kris's eyes go wide and startled, as if it didn't occur to him that everyone back home would be worrying themselves to distraction. The expression is all the more obvious in his newly gaunt and pale face. When he eventually smiles, though, it seems to lose some of its haggardness.

"Thank you. I – thank you. I'm just happy to see you guys again, 'cause I thought I wouldn't get to. It's kind of funny what you end up obsessing about when you think, you know, that it's all over. And…" He pauses to take a deep breath, as if what comes next is the hard part, even more than talking about his own mortality. "I didn't get it until the end, but you know what? This is a blessing."

Cale has to take a moment to make sure his voice doesn't come out too loud. "Oh, come on - "

"No, listen to me. I've started writing music," Kris says in this clear and ringing voice, and Cale wants to call him crazy, tell him nothing's worth what he went through, but the excitement and determination lighting up Kris's features makes him swallow it all back. "You know. You know I've never - "

They all know that Kris can sing and play wonderfully but somehow just never took to writing.

_"He's got music in his soul, just waiting to be let out."_

Katy once said that to him, when they were both sitting in the back of a bar watching Kris sing, and she had looked at Cale as if he was the only other person who got it. Kris is staring at him like that now.

Cale leans forward again until he's pressing their foreheads together, both for the reassuring warmth and because he doesn't even know how to return that look.

"Yeah. I know."

four. music

Kris dropped out of college to make _Brand New Shoes_, and if anyone asks Cale he'd say the results were more than worth it, but Cale's opinion doesn't even count for anything on what passes for the Arkansas music scene, which is so unexciting that it shouldn't really be called that. Sure, there's talent there, but anyone who's serious about making it needs to look for bigger markets. Cale's always known that. Same with Kris, but knowing is only half the battle.

It's hard to even imagine how any one of them would go about getting that big break, especially when going about their dreary day job. Or in Kris's case a total lack of, while he spends evenings playing any bar or club that will have him. It's kind of depressing when Cale thinks about it in those terms, which is why he's not surprised when Katy calls.

"I have to go put in overtime so I don't get fired," she informs him matter-of-factly.

Cale winces. "Oooh, tough luck. They're really working you hard, huh?"

"I'll deal," Katy says, in the sort of tone that makes Cale picture her grin. "But you need to come keep Kris company. I think he needs it."

Kris is far more likely to need space than company a lot of the time, but there are times when it's the opposite, and if anyone can tell the difference, it's probably Katy.

"What's wrong?"

She sighs. "You know. What else gets to him?"

* * *

Cale hears the strains of music as soon as he lets himself into Kris's apartment. He recognises _Running_ straightaway because it's his favourite song from Kris's album, even though something about it doesn't sound quite right tonight. Maybe it's the way Kris is strumming his guitar a little viciously, not at all like his usual deft way with an instrument. He doesn't even flinch when a string snaps, just sits there silently with his head bowed, quickened breathing audible.

Times like these, Kris is impossible to talk to, and Cale knows better than to try. His fingers pick out a melody on his own guitar, something that could flow naturally from where Kris left off, and what do you know, it's a Coldplay song.

(Kris might have mentioned once that it got him through bad days, and some part of Cale remembers.)

He hums along as the notes soar, watching Kris's hunched in shoulders become less tense by degrees, until he looks up, mouthing the final words, _come on, yeah, everything's not lost_, and smiles at Cale like he just walked on water.

Neither of them say anything, not while Cale bustles around the kitchen making coffee, and not when Kris ambles over as the kettle is whistling, arms snaking around Cale's waist from behind, and rests his head against his back.

That's fine. He gets the implied _thank you_ loud and clear.

* * *

A few hours, a bowl of slightly burnt popcorn and two episodes of vintage Transformers later, Kris finally opens his mouth.

"Don't tell me, I'm an idiot. It's just - it's hard not to wonder, you know? I keep thinking - maybe this isn't going to work out. Maybe I should try to finish college and get a real job."

He says it all in a rush, aimed at the ceiling from his sprawl on the couch, head pillowed on Cale's shoulder.

As Katy said, not a lot gets to Kris. This does.

Cale shakes his head – but gently, so that he doesn't dislodge Kris. "You don't mean that. This is what you should be doing, and you know it."

He's said it enough times. It doesn't hurt for Kris to hear it once more, though, especially when it's meant one hundred percent.

Kris turns so that he's half lying on Cale, head buried in the crook of his neck. It's not all that comfortable, but Kris is warm and there's not a world in which he'd be able to bring himself to sincerely complain.

"Thank you," Kris says against his skin, barely audible.

Cale can't help chuckling. "Next time you want to snuggle, just ask."

"Shut up, your beard is scratchy," Kris mutters darkly, burrowing even closer.

"Says the person who can't grow one."

"Just for that, I'm going to try."

"Please don't. I'm embarrassed for your failure in advance."

* * *

A little while later, Daniel calls him up, babbling excitedly about a road trip to Louisville. Cale says yes straightaway, because why not, which is always a bad idea with Daniel. He should really know better by now, especially since the second part of the offer is always the bit he doesn't like. This time it's some crackpot idea about auditioning for American Idol.

Honestly, Cale's not all that keen. Maybe he'll do it if Kris does. Yeah, that'll work.

five. idol

American Idol tapings are very, very strange events. The whole thing is a massive circus, which Cale completely expected, but what he didn't anticipate is the way being in the studio feels like stepping into a completely different world. A world with a lot of screaming girls who can't clap on rhythm and lots of nice backstage crew looking permanently harried - the world Kris has been inhabiting with ever-increasing levels of comfort for months now.

In a way, it's kind of hilarious watching the effect Kris has on people these days. It's the same low-key charm he's always had, but edged with a new awareness and applied to a much bigger audience. People stare at Kris as if they're confused by their reaction to him.

Back when they first met, John explained it to Cale like this:

_"It's actually really funny, because people get all confused. He's like that girl you knew in high school, you know, the way he acts? Except he's actually a short guy with a buzz-cut, and I don't think he knows he's doing it."_

"I think I need a dictionary."

"Shut up, you know what I'm talking about. How many little guys have you met who didn't act like life was a permanent dick-measuring contest?"

Cale didn't really get it then, but he totally subscribes to that theory now. Kris isn't free of insecurities. It's more like he decided a long time ago not to care how he came off to people, and they get confused when he refuses to stay in his little box.

If the epic text conversation they had about Revolution versus Come Together is any indication, preparing for Rock Week hasn't been easy for Kris. At this point, though, he can only cross his fingers and hope. Kris has gotten so far already, and maybe they had talked about the exposure making the finals would get him, and then about how great it was that he made the tour, but now Cale just wants him to go all the way. Show the world what he's really capable of.

* * *

Before the taping for the performance show, he finds Kris fiddling uncomfortably with the sleeves of his leather jacket. It's not something he's ever seen Kris wear before, but with his new, more settled bearing it kind of works.

"Nice jacket."

Kris smiles like there's a camera on him, which means he's seriously uncomfortable. "Thanks. I don't know…I've got a really bad feeling about today."

"If you're quoting Star Wars, it must be serious," Cale says dryly, and bumps his shoulder.

"Something like that," Kris shrugs. "Maybe I'm just being stupid. See you after the show? You can tell me how much of an idiot I was, getting all superstitious."

Cale crosses his fingers behind his back and puts his most reassuring smile on his face. "Of course. As you know, that is my solemn duty."

* * *

The show goes really badly. Not the performances - those are fine, except for when Danny Gokey murders Dream On and desecrates its corpse - but Cale's been watching the show and Kris hasn't gotten comments this negative from the judges for about a month. Even from where he's sitting, he can tell Kris is genuinely upset by them, which would be a first. He still holds himself back from arguing with the judges, though, and Cale's seriously impressed.

He's even more impressed when he sees Kris up close again backstage. Or rather in the one glimpse he catches of Kris's face as he all but runs into Cale. He'd thought Kris was sad, resigned maybe. He's not. Or if he is, that's not registering because the marks of another emotion entirely are so overwhelming to anyone who knows him.

Normally when they hug, Kris burrows in like he wants to live under Cale's skin, or at least leave part of himself there. Right now he's stiff as a board and his fingers are digging into Cale's sides so hard it actually hurts.

It feels like he's holding a ticking time bomb. Kris is pissed.

"Should I offer to go beat Gokey up? Or maybe Simon Cowell?"

Kris laughs, sharp as a knife's edge. "Thanks. Don't do that, but - thanks."

"Forget what the judges said," Cale says, lowering his voice as harassed-looking crew members brush by their little corner. Kris's shoulders aren't really getting less tense under his hands - nothing less than a professional masseur with some serious arm muscles could do that at this point - but at least he's not shaky any more. "They don't get to decide who goes home, remember?"

Kris beats his head against Cale's chest - just once, but with much more force than he'd ever normally use. "What did you think, though? Tell me honestly."

Cale takes a deep breath. "Okay, okay. The duet sucked. Not your fault, but it did."

"Keep going."

"And the second song…I think - I'm going to have to disagree with the great Simon Cowell on this one. You killed it. And you know I'm not just saying that."

The TV cameras will back him up on this one. He's pretty sure they caught his embarrassingly enthusiastic cheer-leading at the end.

Kris shakes himself violently, and suddenly he feels like a human being instead of a stone sculpture, complete with the beginnings of a smile that's not just for the cameras. "Nah, you'd tell me if I sucked."

Cale draws back, but only far enough to bump fists with him. "You know it."

…and one time he doesn't

The show is great, Kris singing his heart out up front, the screaming crowd feeding the loop of energy keeping the band on top of their game, the kind that feels like it could go on forever. Afterwards, he and Kris are the last to leave the stage.

Kris slows to a stop in the corridor leading to the dressing room and Cale's so shaky from the post-show adrenaline still that he almost runs into him. He opens his mouth to apologize, only for Kris to turn around, swaying a little on his heels, and shush him with a hand on his face, fingers sprayed lightly over his cheek, just grazing the corner of his mouth. It makes Cale freeze up, his body thrumming with sudden tension.

Kris blinks a little dazedly, pupils obviously blown even in the dim light, lips parted slightly. He looks like he wants to say something and like he wants to be doing something that involves no talking at all.

Neither are great ideas. They both know what to do when the energy of the show winds them up, and it's not anything like this, even if a part of him wants to press closer, bite down on Kris's bottom lip just to see it swell up red and puffy, and listen to the soft sounds he'd make -

\- no.

Cale takes a step back, letting Kris's hand fall, and the moment breaks, just like that.

Kris shakes his head as if to clear it. When he looks back up at Cale again, he's just smiling, nothing else behind it. Cale smiles back reflexively, takes a deep breath, exhales.

As the wise philosopher Mick Jagger once said, you can't always get what you want. But want and need are very different things, and he's more than okay with his lot in life right now. A lot more than okay.

  
_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. John was Kris's college room mate. They were so close that friends gave them a squished name. Seriously.
> 
> 2\. Seth lived next door to Cale at college. The two eventually formed a band together.
> 
> 3\. I think everyone knows this already, but just in case you don't: the Morocco story is true.
> 
> 4\. Cale's favourite song from Brand New Shoes is indeed Running, and the two of them used to play it at gigs as a mash-up with Coldplay's Everything's Not Lost, hence the references in this story.


End file.
